


Love me or leave me be

by Multi_FandomWeirdo16



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gay Cowboys, I suck at tags, John is lovesick, M/M, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Slow Burn, more tags to come, poor child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 10:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18826621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multi_FandomWeirdo16/pseuds/Multi_FandomWeirdo16
Summary: John had been back for about two years after his year of having left the camp and everyone else had forgiven him, or even if they hadn’t, they at least had the decency to not give him shit about it.Everyone else aside from Arthur that is.John's returned to the camp and everything is normal, except for the fact that the one man he cared more about than anyone else hates his guts.-Or rather, John is a salty sad boy and Arthur needs to get his shit together-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a short two chapter one-shot I've been working on and I want to know what you guys think! It is a little rushed and goes a bit fast, apologies for that.

John had left.   He had taken off and left the gang for almost a full year because everything was getting to him and it was suffocating.   He needed to leave before it all got to him and ate him whole. He’d taken a year to himself and came back. Surprisingly, Dutch had welcomed him home, of course, he got an earful from Bill, Micah, even Hosea had chewed him out and even gave him a good swat to the back of his head.   He accepted it though because at least he was back and he was a part of a family again. While all of this was great and exciting, there had been one man in particular man John couldn’t wait to see.

 

Arthur Morgan.

 

He’d loved Arthur, albeit a little more than a man should love another man but he accepted that sin with glee.   He remembered as a kid he would always sneak into Arthur’s tent. He always told the older man it was because of nightmares, and a lot of the times, it was, but a lot of the times it was because he wanted to sleep next to him, to breathe in his scent and curl into the body of warmth that was Arthur Morgan.   Unfortunately, said outlaw was not too welcoming upon John’s return. The man reacted with sharp words and fiery glances. Hosea had said to give him time and he so he did but now it seemed that even time wouldn’t fix this. Every time he’d tried to talk to the outlaw, he either hit him or cursed him for everything he was worth, eventually, John gave up and let it be.   Returning Arthur’s anger with anger of his own. He wanted the man’s forgiveness but he wasn’t about to beg for it.

It wasn’t rare to hear the occasional jab or insult thrown his way on the topic of his year-long absence from the camp, whether it be from Arthur, Micah or some other member of the gang.   He could handle words, while everyone seemed to think that he was some hot-headed trigger happy idiot, he was a lot more patient than he let on. He picked his fights carefully despite popular opinion.   So he could handle the insults and jokes thrown in his direction. What he couldn’t handle right now, was a very drunk Arthur’s attitude.

John had been back for about two years after his year of having left the camp and everyone else had forgiven him, or even if they hadn’t, they at least had the decency to not give him shit about it.

Everyone else aside from Arthur that is.   

That man took every chance he had to throw an insult in his face and it stung, not that he would let the outlaw know that.   But it was painful to know that the one man he cared about more than anything hated his guts. But he couldn’t blame him, he’d made a conscious choice to leave the gang.   He knew that his return wouldn’t be welcomed by everyone, he just hoped that in time, Arthur would forgive him. But it didn’t seem like forgiveness was something he’d get from the hot-headed man.   So far, all he’d received was hatred, anger, and fists and it didn’t seem like any of that was going to change any time soon.

 

They had just returned from a highly successful heist and the gang was celebrating which meant lots and lots of alcohol.   John wasn’t really in a drinking mood seeing as the entire time they were on the job, he and Arthur had been paired together, Dutch’s way of trying to force the two to work together and Arthur had refused to even look at John.   Any of his questions or attempts at conversation were met with angry glares or insults. John knew Arthur had every right to be angry, but it was starting to get on his nerves. He was trying his damndest to make it up to the gang and to Arthur and the man just threw it all back at his face.   He felt his heart twinge every time he looked into those blue orbs that once held so much love and softness in them and only saw anger and seething hatred. He’d left Arthur alone after that. Only watching from a distance as Arthur drank and laughed with the rest of the group. It hurt more than he’d care to admit but he wouldn’t let it show.   He couldn’t help the knot of anger that rose in him though when he’d caught Arthur glancing over to him, snarling before returning to smiling and joking with the others. He could get that Arthur was angry but now it only seemed that the man was being angry to hurt John and it was pissing him off.

 

After a few hours of standing outside the group, he let out a soft sigh of defeat and turned to head out.   He needed to get out of the camp for a couple of hours and be by himself. He needed to get away from Arthur’s hatred, Dutch’s knowing looks, Hosea’s pity, and Micah’s snarky comments.

Walking over to the horses, he singled out his horse, Old Boy, and quickly saddled him, being quiet enough to not bother any of the others or catch anyone’s attention, he didn’t need any questions about where he was going or comments on if he was coming back.   Of course, he would be coming back, he just… couldn’t stand there and feel so alone despite being surrounded by people. 

He also needed time alone to think and answer some of his own questions.   Like why he

felt the way he did towards Arthur and what could he do to stop before he ended up getting himself or someone else hurt…

Careful not to disturb any of the gang’s fun by drawing their attention.   He wasn’t going to 

leave again, he just needed a few hours to himself.   He was sure Mrs.Grimshaw saw him but she said nothing as he swung his leg over and gently kicked his horse’s sides, urging the large animal forwards.

_________________________

 

He’d rode off at a calming walking pace.   He really didn’t have a destination in mind.   He was really letting Old Boy lead the way while he let his mind wander.

Despite is best efforts, his mind always seemed to settle back on Arthur.   He smiled softly at the memories from before he left, from when he was younger.   The mock fights they’d have. Arthur teaching John how to shoot, ride a horse, hunt.   He even remembered the few times Arthur had attempted to teach John to swim. It always ended in failure due to John’s immense fear of the water.   He still had nightmares of being swallowed by the current when he was just a boy when his bastard of a father had thrown him into the unforgiving currents of  river but not before beating him black and blue.

He remembered their laughs and jokes, remembered Arthur’s smile… Course he never got to see or hear those things once he returned.   Arthur only seemed to regard his presence with aggression and hate, but John said nothing because he knew he deserved it for leaving.   But at the same time, it was getting on John’s nerve. He’d proven his loyalty over and over. He apologized and made up for his mistake as many times as he could and everyone else had been understanding about it, they had forgiven him and accepted his apologies.   Arthur on the other hand, threw his apologies back in his face and spat on them. He told John many times that he should of just stayed gone. 

 

John’s fond smile turned into an annoyed and sour scowl as he shook his head to clear his mind, trying not to focus on any more negative thoughts.  Looking around, he’d realized he was in a small clearing, a waterfall to his left and some smaller rocks and boulders scattered around him with a river flowing down the right.  He didn’t know exactly how far he’d gone from camp, but he would worry about that later. He dismounted his horse and patted Old Boy gently on the neck before moving to sit by the edge of the river, it was about as close as he was willing to get to it in fear of falling in.  It was sad, he was in his twenties and still never learned to swim. Hosea had tried to teach him but John was stubborn and had let his fear of the water get to him and so he’d never learned.

 

He shivered slightly as a cold chill ran down his spine.  He looked up and noticed it was getting late. He figured he’d return to the camp soon.  The ride itself was peaceful enough so he’d only spend an hour or so out here, maybe make a camp so he’d stay warm-

 

“Runnin’ away again, Marston?” A slurred voice spat behind him.  

John jumped up quickly and pulled out his revolver, only to stop mid way once he saw who spoke.  

“Arthur.” He spoke plainly.  It hurt that their relationship had become this strained.  That they couldn’t even greet each other without distaste in their voices.

 

“Ya din’'t answer me, boy.” Came the slurred reply.  Arthur was drunk, that much was clear. John rolled his eyes as he holstered his pistol because as much as he would love to, he wasn’t going to shoot Arthur.

“No.  Just needed a few hours to myself is all.” He answered plainly, not that he even deserved a reply.  He had half a mind to ignore Arthur just as he had been doing to John but it was against his nature to shut up.  “ Havin’ a hard time holdin’ your liquor old man?” He bit. He meant for it to be a joking jab but the scowl that formed on Arthur’s face told him that it wasn’t perceived that way.

 

“A few hours, huh? Figured you’d had enough ‘alone time’ seeing as you were gone for a year.” He snarled and took a step closer to John who sighed and ran a hand over his face.  

“Arthur-”

 

“Don’t.  John.” Came the snarled reply.  John stayed silent. He didn’t care that Arthur was being a dick, at least he was talking to him at all.  He also decided to ignore the fact that Arthur had stepped closer, leaving his horse behind who carelessly wandered over to join Old Boy.

At least their horses could get along.

“You left for a whole.  Goddamned. Year. And you just come ridin’ back in and good ol’ Dutch welcomes you back with open arms!” He paused and took a swig of whisky from a bottle John hadn’t realized he’d had before continuing.  “You aband’nd us, realized how shit life gets when ya on your own and come runnin’ back for us to take care of ya’. Yer a coward, Marston. Ya can’t swim, Can’t read right. Ya screw up  _ everythin’ _ ya touch and we don’t want you no more.” He growled.   

That comment had John jerking back a little.  But of course, he hid his hurt with anger and walked closer to the man, “No,  _ you _ are the one that doesn’t want me, and to be honest, I don’t really give a damn!” It was a lie, but it was all he could do not to break down and beg.  Beg for Arthur to forgive him, to love him again. To hug him when he had nightmares like he’d used to. To be there for him. But John Marston didn’t beg.  And he wouldn’t. “You are the only one who’s still givin’ me shit! I said I was sorry and I have done everything I can think of to make up for leavin’! You don’t wanna forgive me? Fine, but Fuck off and leave me alone and stop bitin’ at me every time I get within three yards of your sorry ass!”

 

“Well stop running away from every damn thing! You ran from Dutch, a man who saved your life! Gave you everything you got! What ‘bout Hosea? Javier, Abigail, Jack-”

“That kid ain’t mine and everyone knows it! Abigail’s a whore! I ain’t gonna go ‘round claiming a kid that ain’t mine! I left because everyone was against me! Because it didn’t seem like anything I did was right and everything was goin’ ta’ shit and I needed time to myself before I fuckin’ lost it! I’m sorry my well bein’ interferes with you! Hell, You didn’t want me ‘round any damn way! I was just some thorn in your side! You’re the one that pushed me away! You don’t get to be pissed cause I finally left!”

 

He should have seen it coming.  He should have seen the fist flying at him.  But he was too busy glaring at Arthur through teary eyes to see the attack.  When he did see it, it was too late. Arthur had landed a solid punch to the side of his face, cracking against his cheekbone and he stumbled back before steadying himself and launching himself on the older man, throwing a punch of his own which easily hit the drunken man.  After that, it was on.

 

The older man lunged at John, tackling him to the ground and John did his best to block the barray of punches coming from Arthur while still trying to push him off.  He eventually grabbed Arthur by the shoulders and pushed, rolling them over before throwing his own fists. He hadn’t realized it but at some point, he’d hit Arthur’s nose and he saw blood on his fists.  He hesitated because he really didn’t want to hurt Arthur but the stubborn man just pissed him off so much. But that hesitation is all he needed for Arthur to rear his head back and headbutt him. He let out a howl of pain as he felt blood start to gush from his probably broken nose.  He jumped back and held his nose only for Arthur to kick his leg, trying to knock him down, he stumbled back and tried to straighten his footing only to realize too late that there was no ground to catch him. A split second later, he realized that he was falling into the river. His eyes widened in terror and barely had time to shout out Arthur’s name for help before he plunged back into the cold rapids below.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur felt his mind shock into a sober state at the sound of John’s terrified scream.  He watched as the man fell back and disappeared under the current. Panic rose as he jumped up, bloody nose and bruises forgotten as he ran to the edge only to see John’s head pop up farther down the river.  His face held pure terror as he tried to scream, arms flailing before he was dragged back under. He cursed under his breath and took off after John, running alongside the river, keeping his eyes locked on the brown mop of wet hair that occasionally popped up above the river.  

Arthur cursed under his breath as he ran, looking for something-  _ anything _ that could help him.  He saw a clearing farther down where the current slowed and ran towards it.  He turned to find John was no longer struggling as he was taken by the current, now floating limply and Arthur’s heart stopped.  “Shit!” He breathed before running faster, stopping by the clearing and reaching out. He realized he wasn’t going to reach him that way and he’d left his rope in the saddle bag back on the horse.  He cursed before jumping in and swimming towards John who was now floating slowly, his body upside down and he prayed John was still alive. He’d grabbed John’s arms and pulled him up and held him close.  Once he’d dragged him ashore and had him laying on the ground, he noticed a deep gash on his forehead, probably from hitting it on one of the rocks. His lips were tinted blue and his skin was pale and splotchy, probably due to the cold temperature of the river.

“John? Come on, wake up Marston…” He mumbled as he patted John’s cheek, trying to wake him.

 

John didn’t move.

 

Arthur’s heart was pounding wildly in his chest and he leaned down to check for a breath but there was none.  He pulled John up and tried pounding on his back to get him to breathe, but when that didn’t work. He laid the man back onto the ground, pinching his nose before pressing his lips to John’s soft ones and breathing into his mouth.  He repeated that multiple times before John shot upwards, coughing and spluttering as Arthur moved him onto his side while he regurgitated the water he’d managed to swallow. Once he was done, he collapsed backwards and Arthur let out a relieved sigh, pulling the smaller man into his chest and resting his chin atop of John’s head as he tried to calm his shaking breaths.   

It took John a couple minutes to calm down and catch his breath, still having wet coughs as his lungs tried to expel what was left of the water.  “A-Arthur…” He mumbled softly against the outlaws chest. He was shivering and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the cold or his fear of nearly drowning.  He curled into Arthur’s hold and didn’t bother stopping the tears that fell freely from his eyes. He didn’t care if Arthur still hated him and he was going to temporarily ignore the fact that it was Arthur’s fault he almost drowned, he was scared and right now Arthur was the only thing grounding him from having a major panic attack.

Arthur was thankful that John wasn’t pulling away from him or hitting him, even though it’s everything he deserved.  He hadn’t meant to hurt him like that. He was just angry and scared. When he’d realized John was gone from the campsite and his horse gone as well, he got scared, he’d thought John had left again… Thought he’d driven him away.

When John had come back after leaving for a year, he was so happy that he was back and safe, but he was also pissed as hell.  John had left the camp. Had left  _ him _ .  How was he supposed to feel? He wanted to be happy that he had him back but he was hurt because John seemed so damn indifferent.  Like leaving Arthur behind had no affect on him. Like he wasn’t bothered by the fact he’d left his family behind for a full year and it pissed Arthur off to no end… hurt him too.  So he lashed out because he was a man and men don’t talk about their feelings, they hit and curse and fight until the problem fixes itself. He ignored John’s attempts at talking, he hit him, cursed him and berated him because he wanted John to feel as hurt as he had when he’d left.

They had been so close when they were younger… John came to him about everything.  He came to him when Dutch was being particularly hard on him, came to him when he needed extra help reading and writing, hell, he used to come climb into his bed when he’d had nightmares! Of course… all that stopped once John turned eighteen.  Dutch decided it was time to stop coddling him. He went out on heists, helped with more chores and jobs. He didn’t really have the time to hang out with Arthur anymore. On the rare occasions that they’d had free time, things were tense between them.  They no longer had things to talk about unless it was work. John stopped coming to him when he’d had nightmares, he stopped needing Arthur. Arthur knew it was for the best though. John was a man now. He had to learn to be independent… plus Arthur needed space from the man, he’d started having...urges.  And John happened to be the object of his affection, but those thoughts were wrong. He shouldn’t think of another man like that, let alone think of John that way. He was able to suppress those thoughts by reminding himself that even though the kid was seventeen, he was just that, a kid. But now that the man was an adult, it became harder and harder to do.  So when John started coming back to him during his rare free time, he pushed him away. Told him to go annoy someone else, to go do something useful and leave him alone. All because he wasn’t strong enough to control his own thoughts.

He’ll never forget the time John came to him in his tent, tears in his eyes as he stared up at the man who had all of the younger outlaw’s admiration and love but deserved none.  

_ “What did I do?” _ He’d asked.  Tears pouring down his face as his lower lip trembled and he looked so much like the scraggly kid they’d rescued from being hung all those years ago.  Sneaking into his tent in the dark of night, tears shining in reddened eyes and lips trembling as he climbed into Arthur’s bed, not asking for permission as he curled against the burly man’s side.

Arthur was speechless and did nothing but open his arms and grunted as John threw himself into the older man’s arms, sobbing as they laid on Arthur’s cot and fell asleep.

 

That had been the last time they’d laid on the same cot together because not three months later, John left the camp.

Now all that seemed to resonate between the two was hate and it did nothing to quell the gap that was growing between them.  

He pulled John away from him long enough to look over him, the gash on his forehead was still bleeding sluggishly but it didn’t seem too bad.  He’d clean it and dress it once they got back to camp.

He turned his gaze to John’s eyes which were peaking up shyly beneath wet black strands of hair.  He hated how distant John’s eyes had become whenever he’d look at Arthur. But then again, he’s the one who put that look there in the first place, it was only fair he be forced to see those eyes every time they saw each other.

“John...I….” He trailed off before looking away and towards the trees “We should get a camp set up.  It’s too late to be tryin’ to find our way back to the horses let alone camp. You stay put while I get a fire put up, ok?” 

John nodded and brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them in order to keep warm while the rigid waters and cold winds bit at his skin.

Arthur looked down as he began to walk away.  Guilt ate away at him as he began gathering wood for the fire, glancing back to see John looking at him before looking down, as if ashamed he had been caught staring.

 

Soon enough, he had enough wood and supplies to start a fire.  His matches were wet and useless at this point but he knew how to light a fire without one.  He took two sticks and began to rub them together, faster and harder until the dry wood caught flame.  He set the pieces down and blew on them gently to make it bigger before sitting back. His eyes glanced up to see John still shivering as he scooted closer to the fire, trying to stay warm,

 

Arthur kept his gaze on him for a minute longer before speaking “You… You can come closer to me… if you want.  I… It’ll be warmer.” The invitation was awkward to say, especially since he had nearly gotten John drowned. Not only that, but the two barely looked at each other, let alone speak to one another. But he felt like he owed it to John to try and make up for knocking him into the river.

John looked up to him, hesitating as his eyes looked over Arthur’s face, trying to catch any indication that Arthur was just joking.  When he realized he wasn’t, he scooted shyly over to the outlaw. He sat right beside him and didn’t move, he wanted to be angry for Arthur having nearly gotten him drowned, but Arthur had save him so he had to give him that.  The body heat from the older man mixed with the heat from the fire was comforting and indeed much warmer. He remembered when they were younger, when it got cold, they had to share tents, John shared Arthur’s and often found himself snuggling closely to the older man, basking in the outlaw’s natural body heat. He wanted to curl against Arthur now, take in the heat and comfort of the older man’s strong body but he made no move to do so, knowing the action would be far from welcome.

More uncomfortable silence radiated between the two, neither knowing what to say.  After a long bout of silence, Arthur opened his mouth to speak only for John to beat him to it.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, lips still trembling as he pulled his arms tighter around himself causing Arthur’s face to morph into one of confusion, mouth open as he stared at the man in front of him.  “Why the hell are you apologizin’? I’m the one that damn near got ya drowned!” He gawked.  _ He’s _ the one who owed John an apology, not the other way around.

 

John shrugged “Not about that… about leaving… before.” He mumbled, shooting a shy glance upwards before back to the fire in front of them.

That had Arthur frowning again.  John’s leaving was always a way to get Arthur in a bad mood. He wanted to tell John to drop it but they had to talk about this eventually if they ever had hope of moving on.  “...Why’d ya leave…” It was more of a statement than a question but he still expected John to answer him. He glared at the fire so he had something other than John to direct his anger at.

“I told you already… there was just so much going on I just… I needed time to myself before everything-”

“Before everything got to ya. Yeah, you’ve told us, and I didn’t believe you the first time either.” He snapped.  John didn’t reply, keeping his eyes glued to the fire in order to avoid Arthur’s angry gaze. There were other reasons but John had found it best not to admit those reasons, but right now, it seemed that telling the truth was the only way to fix this gap between them. John figured it might actually make it worse instead of better, but he had to tell him eventually.  Arthur let out a silent sigh before speaking again “What’s the real rea-” He was cut off as fists gripped his damp clothes and he was about to ask John what the hell he was doing before soft lips pressed against his, successfully silencing any words that might have left the outlaws mouth. He tensed but John’s lips were soft… warm and gentle. He was trying to figure out if this was real or not and before he could relax and lean into the kiss, John pulled away and sat back on the ground. Suddenly the ground looked very interesting to him.  “That’s why…” He mumbled, not looking up. He waited for the oncoming blow, a punch, slap, insult, something… but it never came. John found himself looking up shyly from the ground, his damp black hair falling in his face and shading his eyes.

Arthur was still reeling from the taste of John on his lips.  How? When? Why? After wanting this for so many years… Why now? Why tell him this now when their relationship was so strained they could barely call themselves friends, let alone be in a relationship.  “John… I…. When did you…?”

“Since I was young…” He spoke softly. He looked to the fire as his hands fidgeted with the hemm of his shirt. “I don’ remember exactly when but… I knew it was wrong… when you started pushing me away I thought….  I thought it was maybe ‘cause you found out but… then I realized it was just me in general.”

Arthur stared in shock, his mouth hanging open slightly as he tried to find the right words.

_ You idiot! It was never your fault! There’s nothing wrong with you! _ This was the thought that was yelling in his head, but he didn’t voice it. Instead, he reached over and gently grabbed John’s hand causing the other to jump slightly before turning to look at him. 

“John, I pushed you away ‘cause I was scared o’ hurtin’ you. I didn’t… I never realized that you… Oh for fuck’s sakes-” He stopped trying to explain himself and opted for pulling the lighter man towards him. 

Now it was John’s turn to gawk at the older outlaw when Arthur’s lips pressed against his.

It was short but passionate and gentle. When they finally parted, John took his turn to ask questions 

“When…?”

“First off, Marston, I  _ don’t _ hate you.  Sure you get annoyin’ and there’s times I wanted to toss your ass in the river, but I could never hate you.  As for when? I don’ remember… I just knew I did. It’s why I pushed you away. I didn’t want to end up hurtin’ you or puttin’ ideas in your head.  Men get hanged for.. This kinda thing.” He gestured between the two of them. “I didn’t want to do something that woulda gotten one of us hurt or lynched. I knew you took after me in a lot o’ ways… I just wanted to make sure that my… preference... for men was not one of em’. Guess that didn’t really work out.” He said with a small smirk and soft chuckle.

“Men get hanged for what we do anyways.” John pointed out earning an annoyed huff but Arthur said nothing which John took as a sign that he’d won that argument.   He leaned up and pressed his lips to Arthur’s once more. The action was slow and shy as if making sure it was ok. Which it clearly was when Arthur returned the action quickly. 

John wanted to pinch himself, this felt too much like a dream. Like he’d drowned and this was his life after death, though he wasn’t complaining. Especially when he felt strong hands grip at his sides, holding him close before gently pushing him back. 

John hummed softly against the other's lips as he leaned back until he felt grass and sand press into the back of his neck. He let his eyes close as he snaked his hands up and around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He felt Arthur’s tongue run across his lower lip and he parted his lips to allow the older man entrance. His mind was racing as he could still taste the bitter alcohol that the man had drank before this. He pulled back slightly, looking up at Arthur as the man gave a confused look. “You owe me for nearly drowning me.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes “Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled, earning a soft chuckle from the man beneath him. He looked down at him and tilted his head before smirking and leaning down towards him “How about I make it up to ya now?” He hummed as he began placing soft kisses to the soft skin of the other’s neck. 

John closed his eyes and tilted his neck, allowing the other better access as he let out a soft hum. He’d wanted this for so long that he wasn’t focusing on the consequences of what this could cause, or how this would affect their relationship in the future. He knew they couldn’t do this kind of thing in camp. They were a family, yes, but there were some things that even family wouldn’t approve of. A man loving another man like this was one of those things. 

Even though they were doing nothing more than kissing, John was happy. Not only because he found that Arthur and he shared the same affections for one another, but that he and Arthur had mended their bridges. He hated having the man angry at him and it took a weight off his chest to know that things were better now. But that had him wondering about something. Would this just be a one-time thing? Would they continue this in the future or was Arthur just drunk and mistaking relief that John hadn’t drowned for love?  He found himself pushing Arthur away and earning a gruff grunt of annoyance 

 

“What is it, Marston?”

 

“You’re drunk.” He stated matter-of-factly.

 

“Yeah, not really, so?” He mumbled, words slightly slurred. It’s true the man could hold his liquor fairly well, and he was nearly sober, but still. It was the fact that he’d been drinking at all that was the problem. Alcohol tended to impair a man’s judgment, no matter how tolerant he was to the substance.

 

“I… I want this. I do, but… I want to wait until you’re sober to be makin’ any decisions. Let’s just… Let’s sleep for now and we can talk about this in the morning ok?” Normally it was Arthur that was the voice of reason but that didn’t take away the importance of John’s statement. “If we’re gonna do this, I wanna do it right. And that means waiting until you’re fully sober and we’ve had time to think about this. Whether we want this to be a permanent thing, a temporary thing or just a once in a while thing.”

 

Arthur had moved off him by now and sat back, letting John sit up as well as he stared at Arthur’s face, the light from the fire dancing across his face and creating moving shadows that highlighted the blue hues that were Arthur’s eyes. John had always loved his eyes.

“Alright, Johny. If that’s what you want to do then ok. I’ll wait.” He offered sincerely, smiling softly at him. John smiled back and nodded before shifting his position to where his back was facing Arthur before leaning into him. “That doesn’t mean I can’t use you for a bedroll since it’s your fault I’m wet and cold.” He smirked earning a soft laugh from the other who shook his head at John “Alright.” He hummed softly before laying back and bringing John with him. He rested one arm behind his head and had the other wrapped around John. The two closed their eyes and quickly dozed off into slumber. They had a lot to talk about in the morning, but for now, they were content to just rest in each other’s presence.


End file.
